This cake topper just brought a smile to my face. Why is it that it seems like nowadays women are the one’s trapping and coercing men into getting married??
My wedding cake topper will be the other way round, the groom dragging me. I tell everyone who asks that I plan on getting married when I turn 38 years old
for real thats in the next 16 yrs. When that time comes, these will be my cake toppers:
The covenant of marriage has just been degraded and abused. I believe that marriage should last forever, but we all know that doesn’t exist in this crazy generation of ours. I would hate to get hitched then get a divorce, and the divorce rate world wide has sky rocketed
Everyone I tell about my goal to get married at 38 laughs at me and says how I will end up being the first to get married among my circle of friends
NEVER!!! If I do get married before then, Im eloping and not informing anyone about it till I turn 38.
My logic is, the later I get married, chances are I will have a shorter, happier marriage since I am already knocking on deaths door anyway. Does it make any sense? I already busted my mother’s bubble and told her about my future marital plans, and she totally understood it 🙂
The questions that are usually thrown at me are
who will marry such an old woman?
what about kids?
I might decide to cougar and marry a hot piece of man candy
that would be heavenly or I will just find someone who is worthy that will have me, I dunno, I will cross that bridge when I get there.
As for children, that has not been factored into the equation, but all I know is that I wanna procreate when the time is right, when I can be the best fit mother ever!
As for those women who trap
manipulate/force men into marrying them, there’s no need. The man will never be truly yours if he did not chose you, and you will never be happy..
Yeah I coined that word all by myself, and you guessed right, I am afraid of vehicles (I still remember in lower primary having difficulty pronouncing the said word lol).
I used to be a kawa passenger who felt nothing for speed or anything like that, but when I came of age, I was afraid of driving. I actually do not remember whose idea it was to sign me up for driving school.
I went to Rocky Driving School, a place where every single Onyango, Suleiman and Kariuki hits on you, those men have no shame. The guy who signed me up was those dudes who keep long finger nails on their little fingers
yuck and he used to like calling me ‘Lovely’.
The resident photographer was a slimy perv who used to talk explicitly and dig up your number in their records
Imagine my surprise when I was put inside a van and told to drive the same day I signed up. My driving instructor drove a van with a serious boomtwaff that could be heard from the next street. He took me to industrial area and told me to take the wheel, I was scared shitless! I screamt like half the time.
That driving instructor of mine was just a joker, we always used to drive to his hood in Pango so that he could run errands. The dude had some mad jokes, and constantly kept hitting on me. But he took me and some of his students for Ethiopian in Garissa Lodge which was delish and pretty cool.
I still remember my driving test,
“Mtoto! Mtoto!” said the man in the blue uniform, and I proceeded to emergency brake…easy peasy
and a bribe on the side and I was a registered driver.
I have a problem with my left leg, so I am not really good at balancing so manual cars are a bit of a beef for me. But those days I used to drive to the supermarket, to school when I was home alone or during exams when my mum went away when I was in second year. Nothing beats the feeling of driving to school, it is so convenient.
So last year around April, my mum and I had woken up early as usual and left the house at about 6:15 am. I remember that day I was having a cat for my Artificial Neural Networks class (yes it is as hard as it sounds), and for some reason I had left my coffee which I usually drink en route at home.
My mum is a Kenya drifter (The fast and the furious -Tokyo drift?) she drives as fast as her car will let her. That particular day it was no different. 2 minutes away from our hood, some car veers into the road and the two cars in front of us brake.
My mum emergency brakes full force but due to the momentum, our car rammed into the car in front of us which proceeds to hit the car in front of it.
I still remember the sensations that I went through so well. We used to use those masayings in compositions ‘My heart was in my mouth’ and it happened to me literally. I could not breathe and all my blood had rushed to my feet, it was just the worst feeling ever. Thank God my mum and I did not get hurt, but our car was messed up bad!
Of course with all that drama, all the stuff I had spent the night cramming for my cat went outta the window. My mum flagged down her workmate to give me a ride to school, and I just dotted during the cat, I scored 3/30 he he he but I saw it coming so I felt nothing.
Since that day I self diagnosed myself with Vehicular Phobia. Every morning I buckle up and cling on to the seat belt for dear life with my eyes wide shut as my mum cruises down Langatta Road
ya she really does not learn. I do not really like riding shot gun and try as much not to. Speed freaks the hell out of me, as well as emergency breaking which brings me to the verge of a heart attack and I feel my blood rushing to my feet all over again. I’m a screamer so you will hear a lot of ‘uuuwwwiiii’s’ and ‘woooiii’s’ coming from me.
If I suck that bad as a passenger you can imagine my driving. My parents are very much aware of my vehicular phobia
i’m such an idiot so they do not trust me at all when it comes to driving. My dad really tries to encourage me to get back on the wheel, so does my mum but not as much because her car is the only one I can drive so she is not very confident about my abilities.
I have driven twice this year, once after a fast paced session at GP Karting, and one other time to the supermarket 15 minutes away from home. When I’m the one behind the wheel, I drive with a heavy heart pounding extremely vigorously making it really hard to concentrate. Driving with my mum is even worse because she makes me so nervous and she screams as much as I do which really doesn’t help much.
This weekend though I did a lot of unnecessary trekking, when I had left the car parked in the house. It took me 2 hours to get to my destination when it would have taken me like 30 minutes if I had driven there!
I have resolved to face this dumb phobia, grab it by the balls and overcome it!! Once I make some bank I am renewing my license and getting back on the wheel!!
As the very seksi Leonidas said in 300
Overcoming fear is strength
xxx V xx